Remorse
by Orangecupcakes
Summary: Ghirahim had finally killed the skychild, his master has returned, he should be happy but he isn't. He can't understand why he feels these knots in his stomach or why he can't sleep at night without dreams about boys in green haunting him. What is this feeling which consumes and overwhelms him? And how can he make it go away?
1. Chapter 1

I don't own the Legend of Zelda

This was it. It was all over. Finally, he'd done it. He had killed the skychild. They'd won. There he layed, a crumpled heap, a lifeless corpse. His once bright blue eyes full of innocence and warmth, now stared upwards, cold and empty. His trade mark green tunic was smeared with the deep red of life called blood, that continued to pour from a large gash in his chest. His blond hair was now mingled with blood and dirt. Ghirahim jumped from the platform, which Link had been forced from moments before, and landed, cat like, at Link's feet. Cautiously, he walked around Link, inspecting his most recent prey. It wouldn't do for him to make a mistake, not now when he was so close. Satisfied that the skychild was indeed dead, he turned his attention towards the spirit maiden and finished the ritual. Nothing could stop him now.

Ghirahim should have been happy. He had everything he had ever wanted. He had achieved his goal, his master was revived and was taking over the whole world, everyone was at his mercy. Yet Ghirahim couldn't shake this empty feeling, like a piece of him had died along with the skychild. He had never felt like this before and wondered if this new sick feeling in his stomach was some kind of illness. No doubt due to overworking or excitement over his master's return, he mused. It would go away in time, he reassured himself. However, he was sorely mistaken.

If anything,Ghirahim's new found 'sickness' got worse. At night he was plagued by vivid dreams filled with boys in green. He became obsessed with the colour. His servants were ordered to cover his newly acquired manor in nature's colour, everything must be green: the walls, the floors, the curtains, even the fancy chandelier in the hall was made of green tinted glass that caught the light, casting green shapes around the room. The servants couldn't understand it, why this sudden obsession with the colour that, weeks before, he had loathed? His master didn't seem to notice or even care about his sword spirit's decline, he was far too busy. Besides, as far as Demise was concerned Ghirahim was just a tool, easily replaced.

Months passed. Piece by piece Ghirahim fell apart. He found himself with no appetite, he stopped wearing make up, he didn't brush his hair, he wouldn't wash, and eventually he stopped getting out of bed all together. He was an empty shell, a shadow of the once proud demon he had been, which seemed like it was a lifetime ago. He didn't care anymore. No-one cared. His master never cared, he could see that now. He had used Ghirahim and then replaced him with a new, better sword spirit. Ghirahim was no longer needed. His army of bokoblins didn't care either. They only followed his commands because they feared him. They would probably welcome and even rejoice at his death. For the first time in his life, Ghirahim realised how unhappy he was and this realisation only succeeded in making him feel even more miserable.

One dark, achingly lonely night, after a now familiar dream featuring a green clan boy, Ghirahim had had enough. He was sick of it. Sick of the constant knots in his stomach;sick of what he had let himself become; sick of the skychild for ruining his life, even after death. Uncontrollable anger welled up inside him as he grabbed the object nearest to him and lobbed it at the wall. The leather bound book collided with the wall with a crash and, loose pages making a bid for freedom, slid to the floor. Sighing, his anger subsided, and he crawled out of bed for the first time in days. As he picked up the book, he cast his eyes over one of many pages that had been scattered across the floor. He gingerly picked it up with trembling fingers. One sentence in particular stood out to him.

 _Remorse-feeling of sorrow and regret for something one did._

Grasping that piece of paper like a lifeline, he stared at it for what felt like an eternity. Remorse. Was this what he had been experiencing? Impossible, he must have murdered and hurt hundreds, no thousands and had never felt the slightest twinge of guilt. Why then should he feel remorse for the death of one insignificant boy? A particularly irksome and irritating boy who constantly attempted to thaw his carefully thought out plans. It made no sense. However, nothing made sense to the demon anymore. He was so startled by this new information that he did something that he hadn't done since the skychild's death. He laughed. A cold, humorless laugh, that made him sound insane. He was insane, driven mad by regret and longing. He was sorry he had killed Link and he had been a fool to not realise this sooner. The laughter stopped as suddenly as it had come. It was too late now, far too late to turn back the clock and start over. Link was dead, there was no way to bring him back and say sorry. Ghirahim almost envied him, Link could feel no pain, nothing at all, all his senses had been numbed by death. Ghirahim ached to join him, to be rid of all feeling and emotion, to be free but he was scared. Scared of what awaited him after death, a plunge into the unknown.

His thoughts were interrupted by a sound outside. His pointed ears twitched, someone was softly calling his name. Ghirahim dropped the paper in his hand, it floated back down to earth as he wrenched opened the door and looked down the hall. At first glance it appeared empty, but then he noticed the blue figure, which emitted a soft blue glow in the darkness, hovering near the front door. The figure's aura felt familiar to the demon, though he could not place it. The blue being beckoned him and he followed it without a moment's hesitation, somehow he knew that it was the right thing to do. The figure in blue danced ahead, out of the manor, deep into the woods, too fast for Ghirahim to capture more than a glimpse of it's features. At last they came to an ancient, long forgotten clearing deep in the woods. The mysterious person stood in the centre of the clearing, next to an empty stone pedestal that looked like it had been untouched for centuries. He could see her clearly now; her pure, blue light had brightened and fillied the clearing. Her skin was blue and seemed metallic, the large blue gem on her chest told him that she was a sword spirit, like himself. Her every movement was graceful, elegant, with her arm-like sleeves waving slightly in the breeze. As he stared at her she spoke in a flat, informative yet some how reassuring tone, her face remaining expressionless.

"I am sure that my sudden appearance has startled you. Allow me to explain. I am Fi. We have met before, though as I was in a different form there is a 70% chance that you have not recognised me."

Instantly, at her words, something in Ghirahim's mind clicked.

"You're his sword, aren't you?!" He exclaimed, pointed a gloved finger at her.

She nodded. "You are correct. However, with the death of master Link my conscious has been fading and there is a 100% chance that soon I shall sleep in my sword form, to wait for master Link's reincarnation to finish his destiny."

Ghirahim was confused, "Reincarnation? Why are you telling me this? I killed your master, why give me the opportunity to ruin his destiny again?"

"You feel regret. My mater liked to help people and give them a second chance. So in honour of his memory, I shall help you. I'll help you to ease your guilt." She nodded towards the pedestal. "You can sleep here, in sword form, Link shall return one day and you can ask his forgiveness."

The demon hesitated, "And if he doesn't forgive me?"

Fi smiled slightly, "He will."

His mind made up, Ghirahim licked his lips and changed into his sword form in a flash of black diamonds. Fi lifted the jagged, black sword skyward and placed him in the pedestal. She turned and drifted away, leaving Ghirahim asleep in his pedestal where he awaited his skychild, his blade shining in the light of the rising sun.


	2. Chapter 2

I don't own the Legend of Zelda

Centuries passed. Time flowed rapidly like a river, ever changing, never still. Wars were fought, forests burned, towns built and heroes came and went; yet Ghirahim remained ignorant of all this, asleep in his mighty blade, long forgotten. His sleep was not a peaceful one, his spirit remained restless, it yearned to be awakened and wielded once more. Ivy snaked its way up the pedestal and curled around his handle. Wild foliage grew up around the clearing, but animals wouldn't dare approach it, sensing the evil presence there. So Ghirahim was alone, deprived of the company of a fellow life form. He seemed destined to stay this way for all eternity, until one day when a green clan boy happened to stumble across him.

Link had just returned the master sword to its rightful place in the Sacred Grove and had decided to go home for a well earned rest after his long adventure. However, he got lost very quickly. Nothing looked familiar to him in this maze of trees and dead ends. He looked around, wondering if the skull kid was playing a trick on him but there was no sign of the mischievous skull kid or his annoying puppets.

"If Midna was here she'd laugh at me for getting lost so close to home." He muttered to himself as he fought back brambles along a narrow, winding path. The path became narrower as he trudged on. After half an hour of walking without getting anywhere he made to turn back, only to find, to his amazement, that the path behind him was gone. Instead thick trees blocked his path, so he now had no choice. Sighing to himself and thinking longingly of his bed, he pressed on. Brambles caught at his clothes, ripping them and scratching his arms until they bled. The overhead branches bent low along the dirt path, so that Link had to stoop to avoid them.

Eventually he came to a clearing, which was empty save for a stone pedestal in the centre which contained a sword as black as the night sky with an impressive jagged blade and an upside down triforce mark near it's hilt. While the master sword had emitted a heavenly glow, this sword seemed to absorb the light, casting a darkness around it. Link's instincts told him to turn away, to put as much distance between him and that sword as he could but before he could move a muscle a hoard of bokoblins and baba serpents appeared out of nowhere. Gripping his trusty Ordon sword tightly, he obliterated those nearest him into clouds of coloured smoke. He sliced through bokoblin after bokoblin but they continued to press at him from all sides. One knocked Link's sword out of his hand, which was soon lost amongst all the chaos. With no other option, Link used his shield to force his way through the mass of bokoblins and the snapping jaws of the serpent babas until he was at the very centre of the clearing. With no time for second thoughts, he placed both hands upon the jagged sword's cool hilt and lifted it out of it's pedestal with surprising ease. The sword felt strangely natural in his hands, like it was meant for him. He swung the massive blade at his enemies, who seemed to cower at the mere sight of it. It made Link feel so powerful, invincible almost. However, this feeling ended abruptly when a baba serpent seized him around the middle and another latched onto his sword arm, disarming him for the second time. He felt them sink their sharp teeth into his skin, as the last remaining bokoblins came closer, banishing their crude weapons. He struggled against the babas' vice like grip but only succeeded in kicking his sword further away. Link reached out for it but it was just out of his reach. "Come on just a little further." He said to himself. As the baba serpents bit even more furiously and sunk their teeth deeper into his skin, he was convinced that this was the end. "Guess this is it." He said dejectedly as he closed his eyes and waited for the final blow.

But it never came. Instead with a sickening crunch the baba serpent holding his middle was severed in two and released him, so that Link fell to the floor with a groan. The one on his arm soon followed. Rubbing his sword arm he looked up at his saviour. Looking down at him was a man unlike any Link had ever seen before. He was much taller than Link and his skin looked like it was made from the same dark metal as the sword had been. In fact Link had a sneaking suspicion that this man was the sword somehow. His eyes were pure silver, with no pupils and seemed to be filled with a great sadness. In his chest there was a diamond of the same colour and his hair was white and unnaturally smooth; Link had never seen such an unusual hair style. His body was covered in patterns of bright white diamonds which seemed to shine. Link blushed as he realised that the strange man wasn't wearing any clothes. But he relaxed a minute later when he saw that the man had no need to; he didn't seem to have a gender. The man held out his hand towards Link. After a moment's hesitation he accepted it and was brought to his feet. Link noticed for the first time that all the bokoblins and baba serpents were gone; the stranger must have taken care of them too.

"T...thank you for...er... saving me." Link said awkwardly as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. To his surprise the man looked sadder than ever and, in one swift movement, sunk to his knees. "Are you ok?" Link asked gently, truly concerned for the strange man. The man spoke in a deep, demonic voice, yet he sounded almost respectful and apologetic. "Don't thank me. I...I owe you so much. I'm... I'm sorry. I regret... all that I did. I made a mistake... I see that now."

Link stared at him, open mouthed. "You must have me confused with someone else." He said sympathetically. "I don't know you. You owe me nothing."

The man shook his head and now pity as well as sadness was evident in his face. "No you don't understand, skychild."

"Skychild? What's a skychild?" Link tilted his head to the side in confusion.

"You are...you were. In a past life when I...I killed you." His voice cracked on the word 'killed', making Link feel bad for him. "I want to ask, no... I want to beg for your forgiveness. Please, it's the only way for me to get rid of this...this sickening feeling of guilt."

Link looked sympathetically at the broken man at his feet and he was reminded painfully of the golden wolf, who had died with regret and was unable to rest in peace. He spoke kindly to him. "It's ok, whatever you did before it doesn't matter now. I forgive you."

The man looked at him in amazement, they stared at each other for a moment in complete silence. "So... you never told me your name. I'm Link." Link said breaking the silence.

"I am Ghirahim. Lord Ghirahim. You don't really forgive me?" Ghirahim was in disbelief.

"Of course I do." Link replied with a small smile but far from reassuring Ghirahim, this only seemed to upset him and all the feelings that he had kept bottled up for centuries came pouring out.

"You can't forgive and forget that easily! Do you know who I am? What I did? I threatened you, repeatedly. I stole your friend! I killed you and sacrificed her to resurrect the demon king! I've killed thousands without any regret at all! Can you forgive all that?" Ghirahim's voice rose steadily at he talked. He couldn't believe that the hero had really forgiven him, it couldn't be that easy. Nothing was that easy, ever.

Link didn't know what to say. So he bent down and clasped the demon into a tight hug. Ghirahim froze for a second; he had never been hugged before, but then he relaxed in Link's arms. "It doesn't matter what you did, we all make mistakes. What matters is that you changed and tried to correct your mistake." Link whispered to him. Ghirahim nodded and Link released him.

Ghirahim stood up, all his anger had evaporated and he felt lighter than he had done in a long time. "Thank you, for forgiving me. You have eased my pain greatly, I finally feel... free." He paused for a moment, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "However, I appear to need a new master. Perhaps you need a new sword? I'm a truly unique and powerful sword as you've seen. And my old master... he's most likely dead now, besides he had replaced me after I had outlived my usefulness. So you could be my new master, we could work together." He said hopefully.

Link nodded. "I like that idea."

Ghirahim bowed with a smile. "So do I, master."


End file.
